


you look so pretty when you bleed

by milkteeth1



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Blood, Dead People, Medical Assault, Medical Inaccuracies, Other, Stabbing, Suffering, Violence, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkteeth1/pseuds/milkteeth1
Summary: Alex ends up in the emergency room after entry 86 and Brian doesn't know what to do
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948756
Kudos: 6





	you look so pretty when you bleed

Brian stared down at Alex’s body, covered in blood and stab wounds, his back aching as he heard his gasp for air. This must’ve been Tim’s fault. 

They were the only one’s in the room. Everyone was gone, for some reason. Or they were there. Invisible. Was it him? They were the only one’s in the room, the thing reassured him. 

“Brian,” Alex wheezed, reaching a hand out and pulling on his scrubs, staining his shirt. “Please,”

“You don’t deserve help,” Brian spat quietly, pushing his hand off. “You deserve to die,”

“I don’t-” he coughed harshly, blood splattering onto his chin and shirt. “I don’t want to die,”

“Jay didn’t want to die either, but you killed him. And the man in the tunnel. And Amy. So who really deserves to die in this room, you, or them?” 

“I didn’t want to,” he wheezed, blood dripping onto the floor. “I had no choice. You’re going to have to kill yourself if you don’t want to infect anyone else,”

“Alex-”

“Please,” Alex whispered, hand gripping his shirt again. “Please, just kill me.”

“I can’t do that. I’ll lose my lisence,”

Silence. The only sound of the room was the monitor, beeping steadily.

“Aren’t I pretty? Aren’t I pretty when I bleed?” Alex said, turning his head. One of his pupils was bigger than the other, not dilating under the light. Brian leaned over and pressed the blue button on the wall, the sound of the code erupting over the speakers as he pulled on some gloves and pressed the blanket to his wounds. 

Doctors and nurses rushed in, asking him questions - what happened? Why did you call the code? Does he have head trauma? Let’s get him into surgery, c’mon. 

Alex was dead by the time they reached the O.R. Time of death was 4:34 PM. 

Brian stared at the body on the silver table, the wounds stitched up and closed. He was pale, skin cold, eyes closed. He wondered if he was in pain when he died. 

“You did look pretty when you bled,” he said, taking Alex’s hand, fiddling with the fingers. They were covered in blood and dirt. “I hope you suffer,”

The thing held onto Alex’s other hand, staring at Brian as he smiled. 

HE WILL SUFFER. DO NOT WORRY, MY CHILD.


End file.
